


under

by wolfsupremacist



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Body Horror, Lovecraftian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsupremacist/pseuds/wolfsupremacist
Summary: “This feels like something out of a horror movie,” Chanyeol laughs. “Like, what the fuck? An uncle you don’t talk to? A mansion on the beach? And all you have to do in exchange is water his fern?”“Fuck, I don’t even know what type of plants they are,” Baekhyun whines. “Holy shit, what if he has orchids? Aren’t they like, hard to take care of? Aren’t you supposed to do something with ice cubes with orchids? Oh my god, what have I done? I have no idea how to take care of plants. I can barely take care of my own asshole.”





	under

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: brief mention of drug use, alcohol use, homophobia, and yes, literal body horror
> 
> (i think i've scared everyone off by now)
> 
> update 12/4: user lunicole has done me a huge solid and recorded this as a podfic! if you like that sort of thing, check it out here (https://soundcloud.com/user-453505245/under-by-incroyableirreel)

Baekhyun gets the letter on May 14th, just two weeks before he’s supposed to leave.

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun says, resting the phone between his ear and his shoulder as his eyes scan over the elegant cursive once more. “Doesn’t it seem sort of...strange? An uncle I’ve never really met asking me to take care of his house?”

“Just because you’ve never met him doesn’t mean it’s strange. He wants to keep it in the family, and everyone else moved away years ago,” his mother says. “I don’t know him that well, but your father always spoke highly of him. And if you don’t want to go, just be polite and write back that you can’t.”

The allure is too strong, though.

From his cursory Google, it turns out the house in the Rhode Island beach town is palatial, right on the water, and far too big for one person. It would feel almost _indulgent_ to spend his summer there.

Baekhyun loves to indulge. His eyes gloss over the letter once more.

> _Baekhyun,_
> 
> _Though I know our communication has been limited over the years, I write asking for a favor._
> 
> _I have to go abroad for the summer for work, and I require someone to care for the plants in my home while I’m gone. If you’re available, please consider this an invitation._
> 
> _I look forward to your response._
> 
> _Most sincerely,_
> 
> _Hansol_

“What’s the worst that could happen, right?” Baekhyun says.

“Famous last words,” his mother laughs, but Baekhyun ignores it and pulls out a sheet of paper to scribble back his reply:  

> _Uncle Hansol,_
> 
> _I finished classes last Friday afternoon, so my schedule is wide open for the summer. I’d be more than happy to help. Please send any information that I might need. I’m excited to visit. The area looks beautiful._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Baekhyun_

He smiles to himself before realizing he has to go buy a fucking envelope and a stamp. Who writes letters anymore?

 

☈

 

It is dark with streaks of green laser-light, and it is loud, much the same way it always is on Friday nights.

“This feels like something out of a horror movie,” Chanyeol laughs. “Like, what the fuck? An uncle you don’t talk to? A mansion on the beach? And all you have to do in exchange is water his fern?”

“Fuck, I don’t even know what type of plants they are,” Baekhyun whines. “Holy shit, what if he has orchids? Aren’t they like, hard to take care of? Aren’t you supposed to do something with ice cubes with orchids? Oh my god, what have I done? I have no idea how to take care of plants. I can barely take care of my own asshole.”

Chanyeol yells out another laugh, able to be heard over the thumping bass of the music. He takes a sip of his drink, so Baekhyun does the same, well on his way to fucked up, body singing with alcohol already.

“Speaking of your asshole,” Chanyeol says, eyes lingering over Baekhyun’s body.

“She’s not yet spoken for,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol smiles brightly.

“Pump a few more vodka sodas into me, and I think I will be speaking _directly to_ your asshole,” Chanyeol says.

“God, you’re so fucking gross,” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes, but who is he kidding? Chanyeol is good at eating ass, and his dick is better than no dick at all.

“You love me,” Chanyeol says, and he lays a wet kiss on Baekhyun’s cheek. “When are you leaving, babe?”

“Next Saturday,” Baekhyun says dreamily. “He even sent me a fuckin’ train ticket. Business class too.”

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol says, and he slaps Baekhyun on the shoulder hard enough that he stumbles into the wood of the bar. “You idiot!”

“What?” Baekhyun says.

“He doesn’t want you to bring your car?” Chanyeol says. “He sent you a train ticket? He’s trying to isolate you! He wants to kill you!”

“There’s a return ticket,” Baekhyun says.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking dumb,” Chanyeol says, and he grabs Baekhyun’s face and pulls him into a wet kiss, licking messily along the seam of Baekhyun’s lips. “I am so hot for you.”

“Ew,” Baekhyun says, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You goober.”

“Swear to God, if you die, I will never forgive you,” Chanyeol says. “You’re the only one I like.”

“That sounds suspiciously romantic,” Baekhyun says.

“You’re mishearing,” Chanyeol says, and he pounds back the rest of his drink. “You are my best friend, you’re sexy as fuck, and you give good head.”

“That’s better,” Baekhyun says, and he finishes his drink too, sliding his empty alongside Chanyeol’s on the bar. “Wanna dance?”

Chanyeol takes Baekhyun’s hand in his, leads him to the dance floor.

 

☈

 

Chanyeol reaches around and offers him the little plastic bottle, places it under his nose, and Baekhyun presses a finger against his left nostril before inhaling deeply once, twice, and a third time before throwing his head back, arching his spine.

“Fuck,” he says, his whole body wet, dripping with heat.

“Shit,” Chanyeol says, still sheathed in Baekhyun’s body. Baekhyun waits as Chanyeol takes a hit of his own, listens as the cap gets screwed back on, feels when Chanyeol’s hands come back to rest on Baekhyun’s hips. “You feel fuckin’ dope.”

“I waxed,” Baekhyun says casually, like it makes sense, like his skin isn’t on fire, like he isn’t losing his mind with the need to fuck himself on Chanyeol’s dick.  

“Nice and soft,” Chanyeol says, and he pets along the sides of Baekhyun’s body.

“Come on,” Baekhyun says, pushing his ass back into Chanyeol. “Do it.”

“Don’t you wanna ride me?” Chanyeol whines.

“Fuck me,” Baekhyun says, and he slides his stomach against the sheets, tangling his hands in them. “Please.”

“Ah,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun knows how he must look. Wanton. Insatiable. He feels that way, so he doesn’t mind.

Baekhyun moans so loud it rattles in his chest when Chanyeol finally starts pumping his hips again. He’s so relaxed, he’s so fucking _into_ this, and he wishes it could last forever. He feels the sweat pour off of him in waves, feels the pleasure ripple through his stomach and his thighs, and the head-rush doesn’t quit, doesn’t even _start_ to quit until he’s toppled to the mattress, Chanyeol’s come already leaking from him.

“That was extremely good,” Chanyeol says, breath harsh and moist on the back of Baekhyun’s neck.

It sends an uncomfortable shiver down Baekhyun’s back.

“Yeah, it was,” Baekhyun agrees. “But please get me a towel, I’m gonna fuckin’ die, I think.”

“If you don’t like it, I don’t have to do it,” Chanyeol says, pushing up off the bed and wandering to the bathroom.

Baekhyun turns his head, watches Chanyeol’s ass as he walks. The sweat drips down his spine.

“Fuck that,” Baekhyun says. “I like it. The aftermath is just less than ideal.”

He hears water rushing, and then the sink is flicked back off, a wet washcloth in Chanyeol’s fist as he meanders back to the bed. He’s gentle, as he is with most things, when he cleans Baekhyun up.

When he’s finished, washcloth chucked to the floor like some kind of hetero, he lays back in bed, arms open for Baekhyun to crawl into.

Baekhyun goes willingly.

“Mm,” Chanyeol says, and he presses a kiss to Baekhyun’s hair. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you,_ ” Baekhyun says. “It was so dead.”

“Ah, but at least we have each other,” Chanyeol says. “You know, if we’re not marri--”

“Never,” Baekhyun says. “Don’t even think it.”

Chanyeol laughs, squeezes his arms around Baekhyun tight like he’s hugging a teddy bear.

“Love you, babe,” Chanyeol says, and even though Baekhyun’s sure that he still has some of Chanyeol’s semen inside him, it feels platonic, feels _right._

“Love you,” Baekhyun says, and he kisses Chanyeol’s pectoral.

They lay there for a while, with enough time passing that Baekhyun thinks Chanyeol might be asleep. Baekhyun takes the chance to close his eyes, letting himself feel it. The come down is slow, but it’s good.

“I dunno when I’m gonna have sex again,” Baekhyun whispers aloud. “Oh god.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone up there,” Chanyeol whispers back.

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says. “Go to sleep.”

“Already there, baby,” Chanyeol smiles, and they don’t speak again until morning.

 

☈

 

When he hauls himself to Penn Station for his 9:05 train, his giant suitcase is hauled right behind him. He’s not sure what look he’s going for, figures he needs to get a feel for the town, but he packed all of his linen pants and his soft silk shirts. At the very least, he’ll _look_ relaxed.

The train ride isn’t too long, just three hours and some change, but he takes the opportunity to get a mimosa and a bagel anyway. He pops his headphones in, turns on some Florence Welch, and has a moment.

He falls asleep along the way, and he only stirs with a couple minutes left in the journey. He watches out the window, the world rushing by, before lazily ordering himself an Uber.

It’s another twenty minutes before he’s deposited outside his uncle’s house, the grand Victorian home towering before him.

“Wow,” the Uber driver says as he pulls into the drive.  

“Yeah,” Baekhyun agrees. “Uh, thanks.”

He finds the keys right where Hansol told him they’d be, and Baekhyun shakes his head at the naivete. Still, he is benefiting from such naivete, so he unlocks the door and pockets the keys with nary another thought.

The interior of the home is even more majestic than the exterior. The wood floors are pristinely polished, and elaborate Persian rugs are strewn throughout the foyer and the living area as Baekhyun wanders through. There’s a shiny black grand piano in a sitting area, the wispy white curtains pulled open to reveal the most beautiful beach Baekhyun has ever seen.

“Good lord,” he says, momentarily mesmerized by the sand.

He enters the dining room and can’t keep his eyes off the glittering crystal in the china cabinet, the floral arrangement smack dab in the center of the table that stretches on for miles, the organ that occupies the corner of the room. Baekhyun presses one of the keys and is alarmed to find that it works.

Continuing to explore, he moves to the kitchen, beautiful white wooden cabinets and bright white marble counter tops. He’s died, he thinks. He’s died and gone to HGTV heaven.

He looks around and manages to find a built in wine fridge on the island. He squats down to get a better look at the labels. Baekhyun’s not exactly strapped for cash, but this is wealth like he’s never seen before: bottles and bottles, crazy vintages, so many different kinds. There’s a bottle of pink Pét-Nat he wants to try, but he slides the bottle back where it belongs before he stands back up, hands skimming the counter-top.

Baekhyun finds a letter sitting by the landline phone (which he finds adorable) that’s addressed to him in the same pretty script he’s studied for two weeks, so he opens it up and finds a letter that he immediately reads:

> _Baekhyun,_
> 
> _I do hope you’ve arrived in good health and good spirits._
> 
> _Please make yourself at home. Whatever is in the house is yours to use, eat, and drink. You’ve helped me immensely by agreeing to my proposal, so I am in your debt._
> 
> _Attached, you’ll find detailed instructions for the care of my orchids. If you need any further instruction, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I’ve left my number below._
> 
> _Most sincerely,_
> 
> _Hansol_

“Orchids,” Baekhyun says. “Of fuckin’ course.”

Instead of dwelling, he starts throwing cabinets open in search of a wine glass.

“Gotcha,” he says, finally procuring one.

He walks back to the wine fridge, grabs his bottle of Pét-Nat, pops it open, and toasts to himself.

 

☈

 

“Holy shit,” Chanyeol says as Baekhyun walks around the mansion.

“I know,” Baekhyun says. He walks up the stairs to the great big window at the apex. He spins dramatically, holding out one arm. “Like, look at this shit.”

“Unreal,” Chanyeol says. “I’m coming up for a week.”

“Do it, bitch,” Baekhyun says, giddy. “Fuck, there’s so much wine. I’m not gonna have to spend a dime on liquor.”

“You’re so _lucky_ ,” Chanyeol whines. “This isn’t fair.”

“You’ll get to share,” Baekhyun says with a smile.

He walks into the room he’s claimed as his own, flopping onto the giant four poster bed, the soft white canopy billowing.

“And I can tie you to the bed,” Baekhyun says. “Edge you ‘til you cry.”

“Damn,” Chanyeol says, and he bites his lip. “God, how can you be horny already?”

“I’m always horny,” Baekhyun says. “But living luxuriously _really_ gets me hot.”

“Noted,” Chanyeol smiles before saying, “you look happy.”

“I am,” Baekhyun says. “I think I’m gonna have a good summer.”

“Good,” Chanyeol says. “You deserve it. Now go relax. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Kay,” Baekhyun smiles. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Chanyeol says, before the screen goes black and Baekhyun is alone again.

And that’s the thing: Baekhyun’s not good at being alone. He’s used to having people, having noise. If he _didn’t_ have noise, he was used to supplying it.

But, save for the possible exception of Chanyeol’s visit, he’ll be alone for the summer. So he supposes he better get comfortable with being alone. He folds his hands over his stomach before checking the time. 5:34. He’s only been there for a couple hours.

He scrubs a hand over his face.

Baekhyun scrounges up a salad from various things in the refrigerator and drinks two more glasses of wine before he’s full and warm from the booze. After his dishes are loaded into the dishwasher, he stands at the door watching as the night falls, the sun sets, the waves crash.

He feels the distinct urge to go walk in the sand, and the trip is all about indulging, so he slides open the door and walks barefoot along the little cobbled path to the beach.

The sand is lush and almost white, not gritty or hard and dirty. He sighs. A simple joy.

He walks along the edge of the water before sitting in the sand, toes digging in as he watches the red sun paint the sky and the water purple, pink, orange.

He should have brought the bottle out here, he thinks. It’d be nice to get drunk here, salty air whipping across his face.

Baekhyun scans the horizon, turns to look at the homes lined up all along the shore. They’re so much smaller than Hansol’s. They look like normal beach homes for normal people. He smiles. Wonders if he’ll make some friends over the course of the summer. It’s a small town. He figures small town people like making friends.

His eyes glance over a little weathered shack on the beach, wood battered and beaten by water, by salt. Something rises up from his stomach, makes him want to get up, wander over to the little shack and explore it. Baekhyun tucks that feeling back down inside him.

Maybe it’s where locals keep their surfboards and beach chairs. Baekhyun could always call Hansol to find out.

He looks back to the water. Watches as the sun finally dips under the water, the sky so dark that Baekhyun figures he better get back into the house before he can’t even see his own hand in front of him anymore.

 

☈

 

The next morning, he takes a bike from the garage and rides into the little town.

It feels like a different world to Baekhyun, something ripped from time. Everything is run by locals, everything is owned by locals. Baekhyun loves that, it’s so sweet.

He stops at the general store as it advertises its coffee with a little sign, so he chains his bike to the little rack outside and walks in.

Immediately, four sets of eyes are on him. And they’re mean eyes that belong to big, bearded men, broad across the shoulders as they sit around a table in the corner of the shop.

He thought small town people were supposed to be nice.

“Good morning,” Baekhyun offers.

None of them respond. It’s like chewing on aluminum foil, the way it straightens out his spine.

He walks over to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup, not even bothering for milk or sugar or a little cardboard sleeve. He goes to the unmanned counter, standing there for a silent moment before grabbing a banana and putting it alongside his coffee.

It’s a minute or two of Baekhyun standing there nervously before one of the men from the table grunts and gets up to stand behind the counter.

“Hi,” Baekhyun tries again.

The man doesn’t say anything, just gives Baekhyun a look.

“I’m, um, I’m staying here,” Baekhyun says. “For the summer. My uncle lives here.”

“Hansol,” the man fills in.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, momentarily relieved. “That’s him.”

“I know,” the man says, staring down as he punches at the buttons on his register. “You’re Baekhyun.”

His stomach flips painfully, at the strangely perfect pronunciation of his name or something else, Baekhyun isn't sure. 

“Y-yeah,” he says. “That’s me.”

The man meets his eye.

“One dollar and thirty-seven cents,” the man says.

Baekhyun fumbles for his wallet.

 

☈

 

“They knew you already?” Chanyeol says.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Holy shit, it was so spooky.”

“You’re being too casual about this,” Chanyeol says. “It’s not cute.”

“It’s a little cute,” Baekhyun says.

“It’s _not_ ,” Chanyeol says. “They didn’t even say good morning?”

“No,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t know, it was strange. Maybe they couldn’t hear me. I mean, they were older.”

“Just...be careful, okay?” Chanyeol says. “You don’t know how--how people are.”

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun asks.

“I dunno, maybe they just aren’t keen on the whole gay thing,” Chanyeol says, gesturing to Baekhyun.

Baekhyun looks down at his clothes: pink cuffed Bermuda shorts paired with a crisp white shirt with little embroidered flamingos, white sandals, and a silk scarf lying untied around his neck.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says. “Yeah, maybe not.”

 

☈

 

Maybe not becomes _definitely not_ in his head when he goes to stock up on some groceries the next afternoon.

“Excuse me,” he says to the girl by the deli.

She barely turns her head, but it’s enough movement to tell Baekhyun that she’s heard him.

“Do you, um, do you have soy milk?” he asks.

She turns to look at him. Eyes raking over his body. He feels a little gross after.

“We don’t,” she says.

“Skim milk?” he tries.

“Whole,” she says, and she points to the refrigerated section.

Baekhyun huffs after he turns away from her. He’s lactose intolerant. How is he supposed live like this?

He skips the milk entirely, puts a carton of eggs in his basket alongside the steel-cut oats, the maple syrup, the walnuts, the blueberries, and the rice. He could live on less.

Baekhyun moves to the woman who stands at the checkout, and she gives him the same look the girl by the deli did.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Baekhyun says.

“Morning,” she says coldly. “Would you like some advice, son?”

Baekhyun doesn’t think he wants it, but he agrees anyway.

“Tone it down,” she says. “We don’t take kindly to outsiders here. And, well...”

She looks him up and down, and it feels just as bad as it always does, he finds.

“You look like an outsider.”

Baekhyun swallows over the lump in his throat, blinks back tears.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the interaction, just pays for his groceries before he rides the half mile back to the house.

 

☈

 

Baekhyun’s met homophobes before, of course: he’s alive in the world after all. He knows they exist. They’re always loud. They love to yell.

It’s just always been...a lot different than it is now.

It’s his first time feeling totally overwhelmed. It’s his first time not having strength in numbers. It’s his first time feeling like maybe he _should_ tone it down, maybe he _should_ change who he is.

He lays in bed for the afternoon, tears streaming down his face. He holds his phone over him, typing out distraught texts to his mom, to Chanyeol, to Minseok before erasing them all.

 _What the fuck am I doing,_ he wonders. _This isn’t who I am._

The ocean speaks to him, so instead of moping, he walks out to the beach.

It’s a pretty day, and he wipes his face. Stares at the waves. He’s not a child. He can handle himself. He can do this.

He looks over, sees the shack on the shore.

His stomach pulls looking at it.

As soon as the feeling crystallizes enough that Baekhyun can think it, someone emerges from the little shack.

He’s tall, tanned. He’s got a head of wavy black hair. An upper body swelled with muscle, a pretty, broad line for shoulders.

He’s just Baekhyun’s type.

Baekhyun feels better already.

 

☈

 

Baekhyun goes to the beach most mornings, coffee in hand. He watches as the boy emerges from his shack, watches as he walks into the water, watches as he swims for hours, _hours_. Baekhyun gets tired just _watching_ him. How doesn’t he tire? If Baekhyun was treading water for that long, he think his legs would give out and he’d slip to the bottom of the ocean.

Still, Baekhyun daydreams, that must mean he’s got strong leg muscles. Strong legs mean strong hips. And strong hips mean…

Baekhyun smiles to himself, draws a little heart in the sand.

 

☈

The men from the general store glare at him every morning.

Baekhyun doesn’t get any less gay.

“One dollar and thirty seven cents,” the man says every morning.

Baekhyun starts handing over exact change with a smile.

☈

 

Baekhyun’s stayed in the house for a week and a half when it happens.

He’s digging his toes into the white sand, wiggling them around, when he sees the boy exit the shack. He hides a little smile, hugs his knees to his chest. The guy is so cute. Baekhyun has taken to delighting himself with long baths in the evenings, dreaming about him. What his voice might sound like. What he might say if Baekhyun spoke to him. 

When Baekhyun looks back up, though, the boy is not crossing the beach to the ocean. He is crossing the beach to where Baekhyun is sitting.

Baekhyun panics.

He stands up just as the guy stops directly in front of him.

“Hi,” he says. “Um.”

He sticks out his hand.

“I’m Baekhyun,” he says.

The boy smiles.

“Ah,” he says. “I’m Sehun.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun says. “That’s, um...it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Sehun says, and he keeps smiles. “You’re new, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I’m only here for the summer.”

Sehun frowns.

“My uncle,” Baekhyun says. He turns and points at the house. “He lives there.”

“Ah,” Sehun smiles again. “Hansol. I like him.”

“Oh, good,” Baekhyun says. “I’m supposed to be taking care of his orchids.”

“He is very particular about his plants,” Sehun nods. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your coffee. Just wanted to introduce myself.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun smiles. “Um, yeah, I should have introduced myself. Sorry.”

Sehun laughs, and God, Baekhyun wants more of that.

“It’s cool,” he says. “See you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun smiles. “See you around.”

 

☈

 

“So you’ve settled in?” Chanyeol asks.

Baekhyun is fixing himself breakfast as he watches as Chanyeol apply toner to his face. 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I have my little routine going.”

“Cute, cute,” Chanyeol says, rubbing the cotton ball over his skin. “Any hot pussy?”

Baekhyun thinks of Sehun, but he doesn’t want to mention him for some reason.

“Nah,” Baekhyun says. “Just doing the single thing.”

“Good thing you brought that vibrator like I told you, huh,” Chanyeol says.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes. “Thank God for you.”

 

☈

 

Baekhyun awakes to the sound of his phone ringing.

He dusts the sand off of it, holds it above him.

“Holy fuck,” Chanyeol says. “Look at you.”

“What?” Baekhyun asks.

“You’re burnt to a crisp,” Chanyeol says. “Didn’t you wear sunscreen?”

_Fuck._

He fell asleep again. He looks to his chest. It’s an angry red. He presses a finger to it. Watches it go white before he lets go. Angry red again.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun says. “Guess I forgot.”

“Sorry to wake you, but I guess it’s kind of good I called, huh?” Chanyeol grins. “Go get aloe.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Thank you.”

Baekhyun hangs up, throws his shirt back over his head, and hops on his bike before running into the pharmacy. There’s a bored looking woman at the register, a bored looking man stocking a shelf.

“Aloe?” he asks the woman.

She looks him up and down. Doesn’t answer.

He huffs, frustrated. Walks over to the man.

“Do you have aloe?” he asks.

The man looks him up and down. Disgust obvious on his face. Points at a shelf.

“Thanks,” he bites.

The sun has gotten to him, it must have fried his brain because as the clouds cover up the sky, as a rainstorm starts to fall on him as he rides home with his aloe vera, he cries.

He walks to the beach, sits his ass in the sand, arms around his knees, and he sobs.

Why is this town so fucking mean? Why are they all so _strange_?

He weeps for a little too long, but he can’t seem to put a stop to it. Something about the water, something about the air makes him a little more emotional than he normally is. He wants to go _home,_ he doesn’t want to deal with these people anymore, he wants to--

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun looks up, tears still on his cheeks, to see Sehun, hair wet in the rain.

“Hey,” Sehun says, concern plain on his face, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun sniffs. “I’m fine. Just...just got homesick, I guess.”

“Ah, that sucks,” Sehun says, frowning. “I’m homesick almost all the time.”

“Really?” Baekhyun asks. He wipes at his face. “You look so natural, I thought you grew up here.”

“No,” Sehun says, shaking his head and looking off to the horizon. “I'm from somewhere close, but it's still not exactly the same. Your heart just aches for it sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “You want what you’ve gotten used to. What makes you comfortable.”

“That’s exactly it,” Sehun says. He crouches down, reaches out, and pats Baekhyun on the back. “If it makes you feel any better, I live right over there.”

He points to the shack that Baekhyun is now familiar with.

“And you’re always welcome,” Sehun says. “Maybe that’ll make this feel a little bit more like home.”

Baekhyun smiles wetly.

“Thank you,” he says. “You’re...you’re really nice.”

“I’m not that nice,” Sehun says. “Just a friend who wants to help.”

“It’s nice having a friend here,” Baekhyun says, and the pull in his stomach tightens, like an umbilical cord is dragging him across the distance between the two of them.

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “It is.”

Baekhyun smiles.

“Get out of the rain,” Sehun chides, standing Baekhyun up. “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Baekhyun goes inside, applies his aloe, and feels better than he did when the morning began.

 

☈

 

They fall into friendship naturally, the way newborn babies take to the water.

He and Sehun talk nearly every day. He sets up a new routine.

In the mornings, instead of going to the beach and just watching, Baekhyun takes his coffee and they sit on the sand and talk. He’s interesting, Baekhyun finds out. He’s thoughtful. He paints pictures of storms and hangs them in his shack. He’s got knick-knacks from the town’s shops lined along his windowsills.

“It’s not much,” Sehun says, almost sheepishly, when he shows Baekhyun his home for the first time. “But I like it.”

In the afternoons, Baekhyun sits under an _umbrella_ (now that he’s learned his lesson), and he watches with rapt attention as Sehun swims.

He'll come back every hour or so, lay next to Baekhyun in the sand, and they'll trade stories. 

More often than not, though, he and Sehun are chased off of the beach and into one of their homes by a thunderstorm that descends within minutes and goes as quick as it comes.

 

☈

 

He runs to get a newspaper, fascinated by the short and frequent thunderstorms. He wonders if it’s a phenomenon in this area. He makes a mental note to Google it.

Walking into the general store, he sees the four sets of eyes again. He takes a paper off the stand, goes to wait by the counter. He listens as the men mutter. Disparaging things that Baekhyun tries not to pay attention to. He turns his back to them.

“Why don’t you just leave?” one of the men finally says. Loud. With his chest.  

Baekhyun wheels around. He's been waiting for this, and the adrenaline starts to pump through him, making him shake with anger. 

“Excuse me?” Baekhyun says.

“I said,” the man says, standing up to his full height, “why don’t you just leave? We don’t like your kind around here.”

“I have just as much a right to be here as you do,” Baekhyun says. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The man takes a step forward.

“No?” he challenges.

Baekhyun holds his ground.

“No,” he answers.

When the man reaches for his waist, however, Baekhyun drops the paper and runs.

 

☈

 

When Baekhyun returns, tears streaming down his face, Sehun is sitting at the counter.

“I was waiting, hope you don’t mind,” he says cheerily before he turns around to see Baekhyun.

“It’s fine,” he says, still weeping.  

Sehun rushes to him.

“What happened?” Sehun asks.

“Nothing,” Baekhyun says. “It’s fine, I’m fine. I’m just overreacting.”

He furrows his brow. Still more concern. Will Baekhyun ever stop worrying him?

“You didn’t even get your paper,” Sehun says.

“It’s fine,” Baekhyun says. “I didn’t really need it anyway.”

“Have they been giving you a hard time this whole time?” Sehun asks.

Baekhyun lowers his head. Nods.

Sehun steps forward, gathers Baekhyun up in a hug. It’s...it’s needed, he realizes. He needs this kind of physical affection.

“Don’t bother with any of them,” Sehun says. “They’re all fucking idiots anyway.”

“I have to get groceries someplace,” Baekhyun says. “Plus...I don’t know, I like their coffee. I like the idea of a little, close-knit town. I just wish I could be a part of it.”

Sehun huffs out a breath.

“I’ll take care of it,” Sehun says.

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, and he pulls back. “No, you don’t have to.”

“You’re upset,” Sehun says. “I have to do something.”

“Please don’t,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sehun smiles so brightly, then laughs loudly like Baekhyun’s said the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“What?” Baekhyun asks. “I’m serious.”

“I know, I know,” Sehun says. “Just...don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of it, alright?”

Baekhyun takes a chance. Buries his face into Sehun’s chest. Sehun hums pleasantly.

“Okay,” Baekhyun says. And he hugs Sehun tightly. “Just please don’t get hurt. I think that guy has a gun.”

Sehun laughs again.

“I won’t get hurt.”

And Baekhyun trusts him.

 

☈

 

The next morning, he rides his bike to the general store, and when he walks in, the room feels different than it has in the past. Much, much different.

When the four sets of eyes look to him, they look to him not with scorn, but with fear.

“Morning,” he says.

“Good morning,” they answer him.

He furrows his brow before walking over to pour himself a cup of coffee, lingering, pouring himself a healthy amount of sugar and stirring it up slowly. He slips the cup into a cardboard sleeve before walking over to the counter.

“Um,” he says to the men.

The man who owns the store looks back at him.

“You’re...you’re good,” the man says. “Take whatever you want. There’s...there’s fruit up there. I know you like fruit. And gum. Candy. Cigarettes. Whatever you need. Take it. Just take it.”

Baekhyun furrows his brow further.

“Don’t you need to…?” he asks, miming poking at the cash register.

“We’re square,” the man says, fidgeting a little. “Have a good day. Take care. I think there’s going to be a storm later on.”

“I heard that too,” the other man says. “Make sure to bring an umbrella.”

“O-okay,” Baekhyun says. Is it a trick? He grabs a banana to test the waters. “I’ll be going now. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Baekhyun,” the men say in unison.

The door jingles shut. Baekhyun feels as though he’s entered an alternate dimension.

 

☈

 

By the time Baekhyun gets home, his coffee is cool enough to drink. He wanders barefoot through the house, walks to the door in the kitchen. He stares out at the water. Sees someone bobbing up and down in the ocean.

 _Sehun_ , of course.

Baekhyun smiles, opens the door, and pads out.

“Sehun!” he calls.

He watches Sehun’s dark head pop up, searching the coast before he sees Baekhyun. When he does, he waves and swims in.

Sehun wades out of the water, and Baekhyun feels the need to shield his eyes because Sehun is totally, one hundred percent, entirely, day he was born naked.

“Hi,” Sehun says, and he scrubs through his hair. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Baekhyun says. “Did you lose your...your swimsuit?”

Sehun looks at him strangely before he realizes, looking down at himself.

“Oh,” Sehun says, and he covers himself with his hands. “I normally swim naked. Just...since you’ve been here, I’ve been, you know. Covering up.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun says. “Right.”

“Should I go put on clothes?” Sehun asks.

“N-not if you don’t want to,” Baekhyun says. “I mean, I don’t wanna upset your routine.”

 _God,_ what is wrong with him? He’s never been so bad at talking to a man before.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Sehun says.

“It’s...it’s not,” Baekhyun says. “I mean, it doesn’t. I’m not. I-It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I mean.”

Sehun smiles mischievously.

“If you’re sure,” Sehun says, and they walk back to his towel on the shore. “What’s up?”

Baekhyun can’t keep his eyes from roaming Sehun’s body, all that tanned, wet skin free. He’s...good lord, he’s stunning.

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun shakes his head.

“Oh my god,” he says. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

Sehun smiles good-naturedly.

“It’s cool,” he says. “Look all you want.”

_Look all you want._

“Really?” Baekhyun asks.

Sehun pats over his stomach. Water droplets rub into his skin.

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun says.

“Okay,” Sehun smiles.

And Baekhyun forgets entirely about the men from the general store.

 

☈

 

“You sure you don’t mind me constantly being here?” Sehun asks.

“I don’t know how else to say it to you,” Baekhyun says, tossing the bag of popcorn to Sehun to put into the microwave. “I like having you around.”

Sehun smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun agrees. “Love, Actually or Bridget Jones?”

“Ugh,” Sehun says. “Love, Actually. Obviously.”

 

☈

 

When the calendar flips to July, the heat starts to hit worse than ever.

“I’m burning alive out there,” Sehun says. padding through the tiled kitchen. “You have that good beer, right?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Fridge. Left side.”

“Savior,” Sehun says.

Baekhyun smiles.

“Steaks almost done?” Baekhyun asks.

“Yeah,” Sehun says. He uncaps his beer with the palm of his hand, takes a swig. “Should only be another couple minutes.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun says, pulling the salad from the refrigerator too. “Wanna grab the dressing for me?”

“Yeah,” Sehun says, following as Baekhyun walks outside with the bowl. “Right behind you.”

It feels entirely too domestic, Baekhyun realizes belatedly, them sitting on the patio, overlooking the summer storm that rolls in and rolls back out. Knives and forks scratching plates. The setting sun, the hemorrhaging sky.

“This is nice,” Baekhyun says, hands behind his head.

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “It is.”

 

☈

 

Baekhyun has his hand wrapped around a glass of Pinot Noir when Sehun comes up from behind him and wraps an arm around his waist.

There has been a lot of that over the past several weeks, Baekhyun realizes. Casual affection. Baekhyun preens under it. Thrives the way the orchids don’t.

Baekhyun leans his head back onto Sehun’s chest.

“Hi,” he smiles sleepily.

“Hi,” Sehun smiles back at him, studying his face. “You have freckles.”

“All that sun,” Baekhyun says.

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “All that sun.”

He leans down, and the slowness of it sucks the air out of Baekhyun’s lungs. Sehun presses his lips to Baekhyun’s for the first time, and it feels like diving into cool water.

Baekhyun opens his mouth to it, lets Sehun take what he wants.

It stretches on for a month, or maybe two. Baekhyun could live and die in this, he thinks. And maybe he will.

“I wanted to do that for a while now,” Sehun says, licking his lips.  

“Yeah,” Baekhyun agrees, “me too.”

 

☈

 

The hottest two weeks of July pass, and Baekhyun and Sehun don’t get out of Baekhyun’s four poster bed unless it’s to bathe or to eat.

He forgets to wash clothes because he doesn’t bother wearing any. Sehun will just take them off of him.

He wakes in the middle of the night to feel Sehun at his back, grinding against him. Settling him. Planting their feet in the sand.

Sehun feeds him watermelon, cantaloupe, and pineapple in the kitchen, the juice running down their arms. They fuck on the marble counter-top, and Baekhyun nearly screams when he comes.

 

☈

 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Sehun praises, kissing and licking his way down Baekhyun’s stomach. “You’re so _pretty_.”

“Ah,” Baekhyun gasps, arching his back. “More, please.”

“Take what you’re given,” Sehun says, a laugh on his lips.

“Yes, sir,” Baekhyun says, trying to joke, but when he says it, Sehun licks his cock from base to head, and so all the joking dies in his mouth.

“Gonna make you come,” Sehun says. “Want you to come on my face.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Baekhyun hisses.

“Will you lick me clean?” Sehun asks, stroking Baekhyun’s cock fast and wet.

“God, _yes,_ ” Baekhyun moans. “Make me come. Make me come.”

Sehun smiles, devilish and sweet. Blackberries and ocean water.

 

☈

 

Baekhyun raises himself up, lowers himself back down to a moan that thunders in Sehun’s chest.

“You sound so good,” Baekhyun says. “You like it when I ride you?”

“Yes,” Sehun says. “Fuck, look at you, baby.”

“I want you to come in me,” Baekhyun says. “Will you? Will you fill me up?”

Sehun’s eyes roll back so all Baekhyun sees is the whites, Sehun's fingers tangling in the sheets.

 

☈

 

The sand is everywhere. He’s learned to stop trying to get it all off. He lives with a layer of it on him now.

“God,” Baekhyun says. “Think it’s gonna storm again?”

Sehun’s chest is his pillow, and Baekhyun rides the rises and falls as he breathes. Riding waves. Riding tides. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Look at it.”

The clouds crackle grey and black, and the rains start to pour down on them.

“Ah,” Baekhyun says, closing his eyes against it.

Then, he feels it. Skin tingling.

He holds up his arm. The hair on his arm stands on end.

“We better get inside,” Sehun says. “Lightning.”

“Just another second,” Baekhyun says, lying in Sehun’s arms.

“You’re gonna get struck,” Sehun says. “ _I'm_ gonna get struck.”

“Sexy, huh?” Baekhyun smiles.

They run back to Sehun’s shack, laughing as the rains fall. Sehun’s mouth is on Baekhyun’s neck as soon as the door is closed, claps of lightning striking all around them, and Baekhyun feels himself being pulled, a hook through his stomach. A fish on a line.

 

☈

 

“I can’t believe I feel this way,” Baekhyun says, barely breathing. “I’ve never...I’ve never felt like this before.”

Sehun smiles at him, kisses him softly on the cheek.

“You’ve never been in love?” Sehun asks.

 _Love_. Holy shit.

Is it? Is it love?

He can’t describe it well enough. He’s never been _this_ bad with words before. It feels...it feels all-encompassing. It feels almost scary. Almost dangerous.

“Not like this,” Baekhyun smiles. “Never like this.”

 

☈

 

Chanyeol picks up on the third ring.

“God,” Chanyeol says. “I thought you were dead. You haven’t returned my calls or texts. The only reason I didn’t panic was because your mom said she’s heard from you.”

“Stop calling her, I’m not dead,” Baekhyun says, rolling in his sheets as he listens to the shower. “I met someone.”

“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol says. “Fall off the face of the planet because you got good dick.”

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says.

“Just like you,” Chanyeol says. “Gay disaster.”

“Shut _up,_ ” Baekhyun laughs. “I just...I think I might love him.”

Dead silence.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun says.

“What?” Chanyeol says.

“Did you hear me?” Baekhyun asks.

“Yes,” Chanyeol says. “I did.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun says. “I mean, do you have any comments, or…?”

“You’re finally a Disney princess, just like you always wanted,” Chanyeol says. “Holy shit, _you might love him_? Are you high? Are you fucking possessed? You’ve known him for what, a month and a half?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says dreamily. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“Because you’re cum-dumb,” Chanyeol says. “Some guy nuts in your ass, and you start thinking about engagement rings.”

“You’ve nut in my ass dozens of times,” Baekhyun says as an argument. “I don’t wanna marry you.”

“Shut up,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t...look, I don’t want to sound like a jealous bitch or anything, because really, I’m happy for you. But I just want you to take care of yourself. Be safe. Wear a condom. You don’t know what kind of diseases those hillbillies have.”

“He’s not a hillbilly,” Baekhyun says. “He’s more like, I don’t know, a beach bum.”

“So he’s gonna give you crabs,” Chanyeol says. “Hah, get it. Crabs?”

“I’m hanging up,” Baekhyun says.

“Love you,” Chanyeol says.

“Love you,” Baekhyun answers.

 

☈

 

Baekhyun hears the sliding glass door open.

“In here,” Baekhyun calls.

Sehun walks into the living room.

“I could have been anyone,” Sehun says. “Trying to get yourself killed?”

“No one around here would dare,” Baekhyun says. “They treat me so nice now.”

Sehun grins, lays down on the couch beside Baekhyun.

Baekhyun thinks _all thanks to you,_ but he doesn’t say it, just lets Sehun hold him, cradle him in his arms.

“Good,” Sehun says. “I’m glad.”

Baekhyun lets his breathing even out, let his breath start to match Sehun's.

“I made you something,” Sehun says, kissing Baekhyun on the cheek.

Baekhyun turns in his arms.

“You did?” Baekhyun asks, stroking a finger along the slope of Sehun’s neck. “What did you make me?”

He sticks his hands in his deep pocket. Pulls out a hand-carved wooden octopus.

“Found a good piece of driftwood,” Sehun says, handing it to Baekhyun and then kissing him on the nose. “Do you like it?”

Baekhyun studies it carefully. It reminds him of _The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife_. He feels heat rise in his stomach at the thought.

“I fucking love it,” Baekhyun says.

He throws his arms around Sehun’s neck, sticks to him the way an octopus might.

 

☈

 

They’re wading in the sea, the water at their waists. The moon is high and bright above them, the water so dark it looks black. They talk, late at night. Weird things, existential things. Things that make Baekhyun think. They’re past the honeymoon phase, Baekhyun guesses. He likes it that way.

“Do you ever think about what happens after?” Sehun asks.

“After we die?” Baekhyun asks.

“Yeah,” Sehun says.

“I dunno,” Baekhyun says. “I guess I hope there’s a heaven.”

“But what do you _think_ there is?” Sehun asks.

“I dunno,” Baekhyun says again. “That’s as close as I can get to an answer. I don’t know.”

“Mm,” Sehun says, pulling Baekhyun into his arms. “That’s a good answer.”

“You think?” Baekhyun asks. “I thought it was kinda dumb.”

“I think the smartest thing you can do is open yourself up to the immensity of the universe and admit that you can’t fathom anything at all,” Sehun says, and he stares up at the sky.

“I think the only thing I can fathom right now,” Baekhyun says, “since I _got_ here, really, is you."

Sehun captures his mouth in a kiss and proves him right.

 

☈

 

The town is flooded near constantly with the thunderstorms. Baekhyun doesn’t leave the house too much, only walks to the grocery store when he absolutely needs to.

He gets headaches. He doesn’t know if it's the thunder or the lightning, the electricity in the air, but it sets his head pounding. He can barely get out of bed some mornings. But Sehun takes care of him.  

“Sit,” Sehun says. “Let me make you dinner.”

Baekhyun watches trashy reality television as Sehun works, the rich smell of butter, Parmesan, and cream in the air. He breathes in. Smiles. Breathes out.

They eat bowls of fettuccine alfredo on the couch, Baekhyun’s legs across Sehun’s lap. When they’re finished, Sehun takes the bowls to the kitchen, loads the dishwasher, lets the pots and pans soak.

He takes Baekhyun’s feet in his hands and kneads them until Baekhyun is a shivering mess.

He makes love to him afterwards, slow and soft, so good that Baekhyun feels a couple tears fall from the corners of his eyes.

“Good?” Sehun asks, thrusting his hips.

“So good, baby,” Baekhyun says, headache long forgotten. “So good.”

 

☈

 

Baekhyun feels the time ticking away from them as July turns to August.

“Everything okay?” Sehun asks, arms wrapped around his waist in the bath.

He hooks his chin over Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “All good.”

Sehun places two kisses at Baekhyun’s collarbone.

“You know,” Sehun says, “I can tell when you’re upset.”

Baekhyun turns.

“Oh yeah?” Baekhyun says.

“Yeah,” Sehun says.

He reaches up, pets the space on Baekhyun’s forehead between his eyebrows.

“You always scrunch this up,” Sehun says, grinning. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“No,” Baekhyun says.

But Sehun just waits.

“Fine,” Baekhyun says. “I dunno. I started thinking about...about what happens when I leave.”

Sehun’s arms tighten around him.

“Don’t worry about that,” Sehun says. “I’ll take care of it.”

 _How,_ Baekhyun wonders.

But the hook in his stomach pulls warm, and it pulls him into a kiss.

 

☈

 

Baekhyun forgets what the sun looks like some days.

But when the sun is out, he and Sehun lay on the beach, lazily kissing in the sand.

“I really love you,” Baekhyun says. “I really do.”

“I know,” Sehun smiles. “I really love you too.”

Baekhyun lays his head back on Sehun’s chest, satisfied. Watches the white clouds pass them by. Traces the lines of squids and fish and seaweed into the sky.  

 

☈

 

It must be the dream. It _must_ be.

Something is swallowing him whole. It’s...what is it? He doesn’t know. It’s amorphous and bright white, then it’s shimmering black. It’s big, it’s so big, and it’s opening up, it’s taking him down, it’s...it’s, he can’t breathe, he can’t _breathe, he ca--_

“Baekhyun,” Sehun says, shaking Baekhyun awake by shoulders. “Wake up, baby. Wake up.”

“Holy shit,” Baekhyun says, tears in his eyes. “Holy shit. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Not that dream again,” Sehun says, frowning.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Again.”

“Come here,” Sehun says, and he pulls Baekhyun into his arms. “It’s okay. I got you.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says.

“I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you,” Sehun says. “Never.”

 

☈

 

When the next summer shower rolls in, Sehun sets him up on the patio, paint tins and a palette and brushes all laid out before him.

“Go ahead,” Sehun says delightedly. “Whatever you make, I’ll hang it up.”

“Stop,” Baekhyun says. “It’s gonna be awful.”

“You’ll have made it,” Sehun says. “And nothing you make could ever be awful.”

Baekhyun drinks half a bottle of Merlot as he streaks reds, oranges, purples, and pinks across the canvas. It’s beautiful, he thinks. It’s _stunning,_ even.

“What do you think, baby?” Baekhyun asks.

He turns the canvas to show Sehun.

Sehun’s eyes go wet. Baekhyun's never seen him tear up before. It makes Baekhyun tear up a little too. 

“It’s perfect,” Sehun says. “Just like you.”

When Baekhyun looks at the painting again, it’s black and it’s white, swirling into infinity. He blinks, but nothing changes. He blinks again, and it’s terrible. It’s his dream. It’s beautiful. It’s horrific. He loves it.

 

☈

 

There’s two weeks left in his summer when he hears it.

Sehun is in the ocean while Baekhyun sits at the counter, idly listening to the news. But a word catches his attention. _Hurricane_ , they say. His head spins. A bad one. Headed right for them, if the projections are to be believed.

He sticks his head out the door.

“Sehun!” he calls.

Sehun pops up.

“I’ll be back,” he yells.

Sehun waves.

Baekhyun rides to the grocery store. He’s from New York. He’s conditioned. There’s a storm coming. He needs bread, milk, and eggs.

But when he approaches, he sees an empty parking lot. He puts down his kickstand, tries to pull at the door, but it’s already locked.

He stands there, confused, before he sees the sign on the window:

 **BIG STORM  
** **BE BACK SOON**

 

☈

 

They’re on the beach, and Baekhyun stares up at the grey sky. The hurricane is coming. The storm digs her claws into the beach, pulls herself forward.

“I’m gonna go for a little swim,” Sehun smiles. “You okay here?"

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Have fun.”

For a while, he watches as Sehun splashes around. Then, Baekhyun lies down on the cool sand. He shuts his eyes. Lets the sleep take him.

When he flicks his eyes back open, he sees...he isn’t sure what he sees. A creature. Both black as night and white as ivory, sprawling across the surface of the shore. It's scaled and fanged, claws at its hands. Crawling towards him. Fast. Closing in on him. 

He scrambles up, stands too fast.

Baekhyun feels the blood rush to his head, feels it rush right back out. He would fall to the sand if it wasn’t for Sehun’s arms wrapped around him.

“Come on,” Sehun says, dripping wet. “Let’s get you home.”

 

☈

 

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t know what happened. I think…I don’t know, maybe I had a nightmare. I thought I saw something. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Sehun says. “God. You’re so cute.”

Sehun wraps him in a blanket, a warm cup of tea in his hands.

“Have you seen?” Baekhyun asks, feeling weak. “The news?”

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I guess they’re starting evacuations soon.”

“Do you want to come home with me?” Baekhyun asks.

Sehun looks at him shyly.

“You wanna bring me home?” Sehun asks.

“Of course,” Baekhyun says. “I can’t imagine going without you.”

Sehun smiles, bright white. He lays an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder, kisses his forehead.

“I have to take care of a few things, so I’m not gonna see you for a while,” he says. “But we'll go together, okay? Will you promise you won’t leave without me?”

“I promise,” Baekhyun says, intending not to break it, even if it’s the last thing he does.

 

☈

 

For the next two days, the television screams at him.

It makes Sehun’s absence all the more terrible. He’s called Sehun. He’s texted Sehun. But he gets radio silence.

“Experts are projecting this super-storm to be the most devastating in United States history,” the weather-woman says solemnly. “It’s expected to make landfall tomorrow afternoon, with winds around 140 miles per hour. With the flooding that the area has experienced in recent months, it is going to be an absolute nightmare, so please follow the local evacuation protocols immediately, and please, stay safe.”

Baekhyun shuts the television off.

He dials Sehun’s number once more, standing at the sliding glass door in the kitchen. He looks out, sees the storm clouds boiling the sky. Sees the little shack tilting in the already strong winds. His heart aches. His stomach aches.

He has to do something. He has to find him.

When he enters the shack, there is nothing there. Absolutely nothing. All Sehun’s knick-knacks, all his clothes, his books…it’s all gone.

Did he leave Baekhyun behind? After he asked Baekhyun to wait?  

Baekhyun runs home.

He falls into bed, and he cries.

 

☈

 

His phone rings relentlessly.

It’s so fucking frustrating that Baekhyun finally picks up.

“Hello?” he answers.

“ _Hello,_ ” Chanyeol says. “What the fuck, Baekhyun? What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I think something might have happened to Sehun,” Baekhyun says.

“Who the fuck is Sehun?” Chanyeol asks.

“My fucking _boyfriend_ , you idiot,” Baekhyun says.

“Oh,” Chanyeol says. “Well, fuck, bud, you gotta get home. You gotta leave. Haven’t you seen the forecasts?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I’ve seen.”

“So then get a fucking move on,” Chanyeol says. “Your mother is fucking terrified. You aren’t answering anyone’s calls or texts.”

“Once I find him, I’ll leave, okay?” Baekhyun says. "This afternoon, for sure." 

“Baek,” Chanyeol says. “Please be safe. I’m fuckin’ worried about you. God, don’t make me drive up there to fucking drag you home by your hair.”

“I’m fine,” Baekhyun says. “He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

And when he says it, the pain in his stomach lessens.

“He’ll take care of me,” Baekhyun says.

 

☈

 

The world is swirling grey and black. The rains pour down.

Baekhyun didn’t pack for this kind of weather, but he's become accustomed to it. It's second nature to him now. The water and the winds. 

He holds his umbrella in one hand, takes his bike, and he rides through the streets, scanning for Sehun once more.

It is a ghost town. There is no one left, not anyone. Just he and Sehun.

“Sehun,” he calls. “Sehun!”

He looks through all the shop windows that aren’t boarded up. He tries all the handles. Locked. He wonders. He wonders.

“Sehun!” Baekhyun calls, then a little pitifully, he adds, “please.”

He knows where he has to go. He swallows his spit. Turns around.

He faces the direction of the beach.

He sees the wall of the storm.

He pedals.

 

☈

 

Maybe he always knew he would find him here.

“Sehun,” Baekhyun says, water dripping from his lips as the rain soaks him through to his underwear. “Baby, I waited.”

The waves are crashing wildly, like drums, like horns. Baekhyun’s never seen a hurricane up close before.

Sehun stands on the beach, back to Baekhyun. Unmoving.

“What are you doing? What’s going on? We have to go,” Baekhyun says.

The storm is wild, cataclysmic. The sky is orange, apocalyptic. Baekhyun’s never seen the end of the world up close before.

Sehun walks to the edge of the water.

“What are you _doing_?” Baekhyun yells as he crosses to chase him. “Come on. Everyone’s gone. They’ve all been evacuated. Baby, we have to go.”

Sehun turns like he's only just heard what Baekhyun's said. He smiles.

“Hi,” Sehun says.

Baekhyun closes the gap between them, grabs Sehun’s hand.

“We’re gonna die if we don’t get out of here,” Baekhyun says hysterically. “Baby, come on.”

“You know I’m different, right?” Sehun says. “You’ve always known that, right?”

“Sehun, wh-”

“You’ve always felt it,” Sehun continues. “That’s why you found me. That’s what I found in you.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Baekhyun asks. “Honey. You’re scaring me.”

“I’m not,” Sehun says, smiling. “I can feel you. I can feel it. You’re not scared of me. You’re scared _for_ me. But you don’t need to be.”

Baekhyun’s fear sits on his skin like a layer of dust, but Sehun’s voice can brush it away so easily. Calm. Calm. Eye in the storm.

The images in his head. Eyes. So many. Thousands. Millions. Unending black and white. Slick skin. Teeth. Sharp like razors. 

“What’s going on?” Baekhyun says, and he clutches his chest. “Please. Tell me.”

“You know I’m special, right?” Sehun asks. “Just the same way you’re special.”

“Y-yes,” Baekhyun says slowly. “Yes, I know.”

“You’ve always known,” Sehun says. “That feeling in your gut you always get. It’s your body calling for me. You were born for this, I think.”

Baekhyun breathes in sharply.

“Do you want to test it?” Sehun asks. “Do you want to see if it’s true?”

Baekhyun can’t form the word, can’t even speak, but he nods.

Sehun doesn’t disappear. He cracks at the seams.  

He unfurls, unspools.

Darkness consumes him, scales sprout from his skin, along his forearms. He has eyes, so many eyes. What can he see? Can he see everything? All at once? Baekhyun feels faint, feels cold sweat sprout at this brow. He can’t...he can’t do it, he doesn’t think. He feels like needs to lie down. Sehun is...he’s…  

It is terrible, and it is beautiful, like staring into the black of the night sky and seeing something incomprehensible, something your mind can’t translate into words, staring back at you. Telling you it’s been watching. Telling you it’s always known you.

“I…,” Baekhyun says, but he doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know how to finish.

Sehun stretches a hand out, and when he touches Baekhyun on the cheek, the fingers are cold like the bottom of the ocean, claws scratching gently at Baekhyun’s skin.

“Anyone else,” Sehun says wondrously. “If I showed myself to anyone else, they’d go mad so quickly. They’d drop to their knees. They'd hold their heads in their hands until their hearts gave out, bursting in their chests.”

He smiles, a curling, devilish thing. It’s horrific, it’s gorgeous. He is so much, so much that Baekhyun doesn’t even know what to call it. It’s sheer horror, and while his body seeks to reject it, he feels his stomach, the pit of his stomach, bid him forward.

Baekhyun wants to kiss him. He wants to lick into the maw of hell. Wants it to devour him whole. Wants to lay his body against the grime, the stunning, oozing flesh. 

“I think this is why no one liked you,” Sehun says. “They could sense it in you. They’ve known me for long enough to know what it smells like. What we’re like.”

Baekhyun feels so dizzy, like he’s spinning, spinning.

“They fear me,” Sehun says. “Everyone. They all fear me. They worship me. They fear _you_ now. Because you’re mine.”

“Yours?” Baekhyun says.

“We’ve always been other,” Sehun says, and he hisses, forked tongue flicking over a lip-less mouth. “You’ve always been other. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you were chosen. Because you can stomach it. You can _see_ me.”

He stands back and grows, towering over Baekhyun by a head, then two heads, then he’s as tall as skyscraper, long black arms filling the sky like the storm clouds, like he is the _storm itself,_ thundering and bleeding.

When he speaks, it is a whisper, like he’s standing right behind Baekhyun.

“I will give you forever,” Sehun says. “If you trust me, I will give you absolutely everything.”

He blinks, and the sky is simply orange and grey again, and Sehun stands before him, not _Sehun_ truly, but the boy he fell in love with: the gentle smile, the kind eyes, the broad shoulders, and the soft skin.

“Do you?” Sehun asks.

He takes Baekhyun in his arms, shaking and cold.

“Do I?” Baekhyun says.

“Do you trust me?” Sehun asks.

Baekhyun draws back, draws out of the embrace. Looks to Sehun’s eyes. Watches as they go white, the iris leaking out like ink.

“Yes,” Baekhyun says. “Oh my god, _yes._ ”

Sehun holds his hand as they walk into the rattling ocean, the storm and the water everywhere around them, surrounding them like bullets.

“Don’t be afraid,” Sehun says as they get up to their necks. “There’s nothing to fear.”

Sehun pulls him forward, and Baekhyun goes. 

Baekhyun swallows his nerves in bundles, in bunches.

Baekhyun swallows sea water in gulps, in mouthfuls.

He gasps, gasps, struggles.

“Shh,” Sehun says through the water, holding him. “Shh, you’ll feel it soon. Give yourself to me. Give yourself to the sea.”

Baekhyun’s body can’t control itself, his brain can’t think, he’s panicking, he’s in pain, he needs _air, air, a--_

His neck splits open, two great wounds on either side, and Sehun latches his mouth to one side of Baekhyun’s open throat. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all. It feels...it feels better than anything he’s ever felt. Hot heat amidst ice cold. What’s happening to him, he wonders. He can barely parse it. He's dying. Or he's changing. 

When Sehun pulls back, suddenly Baekhyun’s lungs are...he doesn’t know, he can’t figure out what’s happening inside him, in his body, but the pain in his chest and in his head starts to dissipate.

“Better?” Sehun asks.

Baekhyun tries to speak, but he watches as his last few gasps of oxygen fall out of him, bubbling up to the surface.

He nods.

“Good,” Sehun says, and he swims to Baekhyun’s other side.

He kisses Baekhyun’s neck, gives him breath.

Baekhyun’s chest heaves as it works overtime.

“Relax,” Sehun says. “Relax.”

Baekhyun tries, tries to count to ten, but he can’t even think of what comes after _one_.

“Come,” Sehun says, and he pulls Baekhyun down by the hand.

Down, down, down.

Dark, darker. Darker. Darker.

Baekhyun can’t see anything but Sehun, the way his body sprawls limitlessly, glowing along the floor of the ocean.

Sehun brushes a nail, a claw over Baekhyun’s eyelid. It's so gentle. One little flick of his hand, Baekhyun realizes, and his eyelid would be split in two. One little thought, and Baekhyun would be suspended in sea-water, gasping for breath but never dying, for all eternity. 

“Rest,” he says. “You’ll feel better when you wake.”

 

☈

 

Wet all over, shivering with the electric shocks of pleasure.

Sehun is on him, all over him, leeching to him. Sucking the blood to the surface of Baekhyun’s skin. Making him hiss out moans. Everything is navy blue, turquoise and green. Sehun’s body is glittering and ugly, curling slick around him. Baekhyun’s never loved anyone, _anything_ more. Wants to spend his life here, he realizes, deep down under.

He arches, tenses, trembles with joy. With desire.

When he spills, he spills into the cold black water of the under.

 

☈ 

 

Baekhyun opens his eyes to a bright blue sky, wet sand streaked across his skin.

He sits up. Naked. He looks around. There is nothing but desolation. There is nothing but the leftover carnage of the worst hurricane in national history.

Was it a dream? Was it all just a fever dream?

He tries to remember what happened. He touches the side of his neck. It feels like he’s bleeding still. When he looks to the wetness on his hand, it is shimmering, glittering white. Gorgeous, beautiful black.

He stands, and when he does, he sees Sehun standing on the surface of the water. He blinks, like it's a mirage, but the image only gets clearer. 

He is God. 

“Come to me,” he says.

Baekhyun walks into the sea, swims to Sehun before he climbs on top of the water like he’s standing on glass.

“You took it well,” Sehun praises. “How do you feel?”

Baekhyun can’t quite speak yet, he doesn’t think, but he’ll try for Sehun.

When he opens his mouth, he spits out salt water and seaweed. Coughs it up.

“It’s okay,” Sehun says, and he pats him gently on the back. “You’re still healing.”

“ _S-Sehun,_ ” Baekhyun gasps. “What am I?”

“Oh, my love. Don’t you see? You’re everything,” Sehun says, the scales of his hand gentle on Baekhyun’s cheek.

Sehun plummets to the bottom of the ocean, shooting down to the depths.

He could go. He could walk.

He doesn't. 

He follows.

Down, down, down to the depths.

Under.

Under. 

**Author's Note:**

> so...sry abt that
> 
> inspired by both shadow over innsmouth and the shape of water, interestingly enough lmao 
> 
> thank you for reading, if you managed to make it this far. if you liked it, pls let me know and let others know! also, i write a lot of other weird stuff! check it all out, why dont u 
> 
> twitter and curious cat are wolfsupremacist  
> 


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